


no reason

by kleine_waldfee



Series: dope and diamonds [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Light BDSM, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rope Bondage, Threesome, additional info and warnings in author's note, domestic gangsters??, don't mistake the fillers for plot, my fingers slipped, oops i did it again, they're less emotionally constipated in this one!, this is longer than it was supposed to be idk why it escalated like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 18:50:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20625845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kleine_waldfee/pseuds/kleine_waldfee
Summary: San's relationship with Mingi is finally going well, but when an old acquaintance shows up things take an unexpected turn.





	no reason

**Author's Note:**

> i guess it doesn't come across as that bad in the story, but if you look at it realistically the dynamics between the characters are pretty messed up. mingi is san's boss. it's implied that yeosang doesn't know anything of their criminal careers.  
if any of that makes you uncomfortable feel free to leave.
> 
> title: no reason by kim junsu

Mingi was gone. Had been, for a week and would be for another two weeks. He was doing business abroad. Staring holes into the ceiling didn't help, staring holes into the wall didn't help, neither did drowning his frustrations in tragically expensive whisky. 

At night, San fell asleep curled into Mingi's side of the king sized bed, revelling in the scent of his lover's linen, dreaming of big arms pulling him close.

*

That was it, San thought as he poured the contents of his Macallan into the kitchen sink one morning. No more sulking, he was no lovesick teenager. He could miss his lover, that was normal, but moping around as if they had broken up didn't do him any good. 

After spending his days working, he started doing things people usually did in their free time. He went to the park, sat down to read, but most times he ended up staring at his surroundings. It was calming to sit there thinking of nothing as the setting sun in the sky tinted the plants around him and the buildings in the distance shades of pink and blue. 

Perhaps that's why Mingi loved those paintings of nature that much, perhaps it wasn't just about satisfying his longing for the aesthetic, about coming home to something pulchritudinous after dirtying his conscience at the job. San was beginning to realize that it could just be his visceral connection to nature as a human being. 

*

He had spent one and a half weeks working hard and thinking about everything and nothing when San woke up to a dream of being hugged to someone's chest and receiving forehead kisses. Except that Mingi was no dream, he was real and he was right there, had slipped into bed next to San and was currently cradling him to his chest like he was the most precious thing Mingi's ever held. 

San's eyesight was bleary from sleep, but he blinked that away quickly. "You're back early," He stated, not his first thought, but definitely the least jumbled one.

Mingi made an affirmative sound, "My last client said he needed more time to think things through, so I could come home sooner."

There were a lot of things San could say, ranging from the basic _I missed you_ and _I love you_ — words they barely ever said aloud — to a more confusing _I think I finally started understanding_, but he said none of those. After all, words didn't mean much to men like them. They used words to twist the truth, to lie like they were born actors, to manipulate situations and people to their advantage. 

Words didn't have to mean a thing, they were hollow tools. So he let his body speak, pulled Mingi in for a slow kiss, not pressing any further, just trying to convey his feelings in a way that was truthful and meaningful to them.

"You should sleep some more, it's still early," Mingi mumbled against San's lips once they parted for air. 

San didn't say anything to that, simply pressed his face into Mingi's chest and closed his heavy eyes again. Before he managed to drift off into darkness and images produced by his subconsciousness though, he whispered, "I'm glad you're back."

*

When San woke up again it was to an empty bed. If the sheets on the other side had been untouched he would have thought Mingi's arrival had been but an illusion, but the sight of the rumpled blanket made his heart swell with happiness. 

After going to the bathroom the smell of food led him to their kitchen. Mingi was stirring something, singing along to a song that was playing on the radio. San approached him and stood on the tips of his toes to look over Mingi's shoulder. "You're making eggs?" 

"You like eggs for breakfast, don't you?" 

"Sure," San replied and hugged Mingi from behind. He wasn't one to be corny, but he couldn't deny that the solid warmth and the familiar scent of Mingi's body made him feel comfortable and reassured. 

When Mingi turned around and gave San a kiss on the forehead, he noted, "You dyed your hair while I was away."

Running his fingers through his ash blond hair, San asked, "Yeah, I just felt like doing it one night. What do you think?"

Mingi scrutinized San for a while before he made up his mind, "It suits you. Makes you look more innocent, in a way." He turned around to turn the stove off. When he placed two plates on the table, he grinned and added, "I like how contradictive that sounds."

With a snort San thought that, yeah, looking innocent despite having killed so many men he should probably stop counting was in fact a contradiction. 

"Come on, you should eat up," Mingi told San. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day and you'll need your strength."

*

Mingi's ominous words had been true, San did need his strength. He was positioned in the middle of their shared bed, completely naked, chest still heaving from the passionate kisses they had shared, legs spread, soles of his feet flat on the mattress. 

When Mingi returned from looking through the drawer they kept all the fun stuff in, a bottle of lube in one hand and two ropes hanging from his fingers, he smiled and automatically lifted his arms above his head. 

"No, that's not what I had in mind," Mingi said, obviously pleased by San's eagerness. San simply lifted an eyebrow. It wasn't until Mingi discarded the lube on the bed and pulled his right arm down while pushing the leg on the same side back a bit further, until the tips of his fingers brushed his ankle, that he realized what Mingi wanted. "Is that okay?" He wanted to know. 

"Yeah," San replied truthfully and moved the left side of his body to mirror the right one. As an afterthought he added, "I trust you." The thought of being in such a helpless, vulnerable position for Mingi was titillating.

"That's good, baby, but I need you to tell me if it gets too much, alright? Use your safeword if you need to."

San nodded, but he knew that Mingi was waiting for verbal confirmation, so he answered, "Of course."

Mingi gave him a loving kiss before his mouth travelled down, his lips leaving feather light touches on San's neck, chest and abdomen before he finally used the baby pink soft cotton ropes to bind San's wrists and ankles together skillfully. When he was done, San tested the bonds. Like this he couldn't really do much except for closing his legs, which seemed rather counterproductive.

The way Mingi looked at him made blood rush to his face and he was suddenly acutely aware of how exposed he was. Mingi on the other hand was still completely dressed and appeared to be astonishingly composed, though San knew that the sight before him unlocked something primitive in him, too.

"You good?" Mingi asked and he sounded as affected as San felt. 

San wet his lips. "Yes."

So Mingi poured some lube onto his fingers and rubbed them together to warm the viscous substance before he started fingering San. At the same time he left kisses on the insides of San's thighs, licking occasionally and grazing the sensitive skin with his teeth. San found the sensations to be slightly ticklish, but at the same time watching Mingi caress him like that, all while his long fingers worked him open, was incredibly arousing. 

"Wanna come like that?" Mingi asked, hot breath brushing San's leg.

It took San a moment to find the words to express himself. "Please, yes."

Without further ado, Mingi inserted a fourth finger into San and started licking the sensitive head of his cock, which made him moan in surprise. With the added stimulation it didn't take him much longer to finish and he came with his mouth hanging open in a silent scream. He wished he could twist his fingers into Mingi's hair to ground himself as he broke apart, but due to the way he was tied up he could do nothing but uselessly curl his fingers around air.

"How are you doing?" Mingi asked, slowly pulling out his fingers while searching San's face. 

"So good" San replied. Mingi had catapulted him onto cloud nine and he had no plans of coming down any time soon. "Will you fuck me now?" It was supposed to be a question, but it sounded like a whiny plea, even to his own ears.

"If you want my cock that much," Mingi teased good-naturedly. If he was honest San's enthusiasm also got to him. 

San was way past the point of being embarrassed, so he breathed, "You could say it's my raison d'être." Neither of them could tell how serious he was.

Mingi leaned down to kiss San, who reciprocated the display of affection immediately. Between kisses, he murmured, "Don't worry, Sannie. Of course I'll fuck you." The drag of Mingi's clothes against his naked body made him shiver. After his first orgasm he felt hyper-sensitive. Fortunately, Mingi seemed to notice and chose that moment to sit up and take off all of his clothes. 

San's gaze greedily followed the movement of Mingi's limbs as he got undressed, drinking the sight of his exposed body in until he felt breathless, like he was a drowning man.

When Mingi was naked, he leaned over San again. The feeling of Mingi's skin and flesh heavy on top of his own body equalled the comfort a fireplace offered during a storm. Like this, San felt safe and warm. His cock started hardening again when he felt Mingi's heavy erection drag over his abdomen. 

After he had placed some more lingering kisses on San's body, Mingi spread a generous amount of lube on his dick while he asked, "Ready?" 

When San nodded, too excited to form actual words, Mingi slid inside in one swift motion that knocked the air out of San's lungs. Mingi's arms bracketed San's head and he maintained eye contact as he began fucking into San. Feeling him move, deep inside, stretching him deliciously, while San could do nothing but lie there, was maddening in the best way possible. Allowing Mingi to take control always made his head spin with lust.

"You look so beautiful when I'm inside you," Mingi whispered and San could have died right then. 

Instead, he tilted his chin up and Mingi immediately understood. He slotted their mouths together, let San lick into him greedily, desperately. They were getting lost in pleasure until neither of them was able to continue kissing the other, settling for gasping into each other's mouths instead. 

Mingi reached between them to take San's throbbing erection in his hand, the hand resting beside San's head shaking from the strain of holding his body up. At the first touch of his fingers San ejaculated again, a quiet gasp leaving his lips as fireworks exploded behind his eyelids. By the time Mingi finished inside of him with a low groan he was shaking from overstimulation. 

Both of them remained silent for a moment, they just stared at each other with something one could describe as wonder in their eyes, letting their sweaty foreheads rest together. When Mingi eventually got up, he quickly undid the ties on San's body. San used the opportunity to stretch out his legs while Mingi pampered his wrists with kisses. 

Once San was satisfied he turned over and draped himself over Mingi, who remained unbothered by the drying mess of bodily fluids between them. He simply wrapped his arms around San's middle and smiled at him. "How do you feel?"

San giggled and replied, "Amazing, if I ignore that inner voice that tells me I'll be sore tomorrow."

Laughing good-naturedly, Mingi responded, "Well, if you let me get up I'll run a bath for you. Maybe that will help."

Dissatisfied due to the notion of moving, San bargained, "After cuddling some more. And you have to carry me."

"Of course," Mingi said and stroked San's damp hair. The way San was clinging to him made something soft well up in his chest.

*

It was crowded, packed with all types of people. Well, that wasn't exactly true. The halls were filled with affluent high society people. Some fancy artist was displaying his newest pieces, some emotional paintings showing a variety of people in dreary settings, but mostly photography, also exuding a trist atmosphere.

Not exactly what Mingi usually liked, San thought. His preferred genres were romanticism and impressionism, displays of nature in all the beauty it had to offer. San had no idea how they ended up here, this had nothing to do with what Mingi liked. Perhaps he was friends with the artist, San hadn't really bothered asking. He still didn't care that much for exhibitions, but if it made Mingi happy he would accompany him to all the vernissages in the world.

Actually, San didn't know where Mingi was. He had started speaking to some acquaintances, possibly other collectors, and San had excused himself politely with a claim of wanting to look around some more. That was bullshit, of course, but it was better than having to suffer the presence of those strangers and their conversation topics he could not care less about. 

Once San had stepped into a different room, however, his boredom immediately came to an end as his eyes fell upon a familiar figure. He took him in. Animated talking, lively facial expressions, warm smiles, his fingers brushing the arm of the older man he was conversing with in a perfectly timed yet natural manner. Kang Yeosang — stunning as always. Something twisted in San's gut and he forgot how to breathe for a ridiculous number of seconds.

San forcefully tore his gaze away as the elderly guy brushed some hair out of Yeosang's face and he leaned into the touch with one of his pure smiles. After turning his head San's gaze fell straight upon a picture portraying a lone tree in front of a mountain chain. Remembering his and Mingi's trip to Europe, it immediately made him think of one specific painting by Caspar David Friedrich that Mingi had spent several minutes staring at during their visit to the old national gallery in Berlin. 

It was surprising that he even still remembered that painting, or anything about the exposition at all, considering that he had spent most of his time at the museum looking at Mingi, who, to him, was more fascinating than some pieces of artists that were long-gone. 

San looked away from the photograph. He was still bored, but now that he had seen Yeosang a hint of nervousness had also started spreading through his body. Maybe he should go find Mingi, see if he wanted to get out of here.

*

San stepped out of the cubicle and washed his hands. Sighing, he spread the soap that smelled of lavender on his hands, just going through the motions, distracting himself. Mingi wanted to stay, oblivious to the fact that San was bored out of his mind. So San had just stuck around for a while, listening to the ongoing conversation, downing the contents of a champagne flute he had grabbed off one of the trays some garçons were carrying around, and then he had excused himself yet again. 

He didn't lift his head when someone entered and started using the sink next to him. That was until the person spoke, "Hey. Long time no see, huh? How are you?"

San looked up and saw Yeosang's reflection in the huge mirror lining the wall. When he realized that he should reply to him instead of continuing to stare, he cleared his throat and said, "I'm good. What about you?"

Yeosang laughed quietly. "I spilled orange juice on my hands. Can you believe that? I'm usually not that clumsy." 

Turning off the water, getting some paper towels to dry his hands, San turned around with a smirk. "Orange juice? Isn't that what they give pregnant people and kids on these occasions?"

Yeosang rolled his eyes, obviously amused, and replied, "Yeah, but I don't drink on the job."

"Right. Your date is hot, by the way," San teased. It came naturally, this friendly banter — even though they hadn't seen each other in a good six months.

With a straight face Yeosang retorted, "Come on. That's all you got? I know you can lie better than that." 

San waved his hands in defense. "Sorry, sorry. Perhaps mature would be a better way to describe him. Or at least a more fitting one." 

Yeosang shrugged and walked to stand right in front of San after he was done washing the sticky juice off his fingers. "That's true. You know, I actually kinda like the older ones. Most of them are just looking for some kindness and affection, nothing wild."

He was definitely in San's personal space now. San's heartbeat stuttered as Yeosang lifted his hands to — caress his face? Or hit him? Deranged thoughts crossed his mind at the unexpected gesture. All San could do was blink cluelessly at the man before him, until Yeosang clarified the situation, "Could I dry my hands, please?"

Right, San was blocking his way. He hurriedly stepped aside to make space for Yeosang. Curiously, his eyes followed the movement of Yeosang's arms and shoulders. He immediately noticed that the suit he was wearing hugged his body perfectly. Custom-tailored, San assumed. It looked rather exclusive, but perhaps that was just because Yeosang was the one wearing it. Hell, he even made wearing nothing but his skin look unaffordably expensive. San tried to suppress the sudden memory before he could think of something stupid like the way Yeosang's skin had felt beneath his fingertips.

Yeosang tossed the paper towel into the bin underneath the sink. "It was nice meeting you again, San. Maybe we can hang out some time. By the way, I like the new hairstyle," He said and left with a wink before San could say anything.

When the door closed behind Yeosang, San stepped back to rest his weight against the stone wall that was illuminated by warm lights, making the sandy colour appear golden. He almost tripped over the yucca palm in the corner in the process. He didn't understand why that encounter left him feeling this fazed. 

*

On a lazy Saturday morning about two weeks after the encounter, San invited Yeosang over for a game of Go. Mingi was out, brunching with his mother. To discuss business, he had said, but San doubted that because despite the fact that he liked to appear cold and calculating on the outside, he had a soft spot for his family, his loved ones. 

When Yeosang showed up, in a red sweater and a basic pair of blue jeans, San was relieved because he didn't feel any residual weirdness around him. Mayhaps the alcohol had just gotten to him on that evening at the art gallery. They hugged briefly before San welcomed him inside, "Come on in, I've already set up the game."

"I didn't know you were this eager for board games," Yeosang laughed as he toed his shoes off. 

"You said 'eager to spend time with friends' wrong," San teased in return. "Anyway, what would you like to drink?"

The man in question waved his hands, "Normally I'd say that anything is fine, but since we're playing Go we should go for green tea."

Grinning, San replied, "That's the spirit."

"So, how's life?" Yeosang asked curiously as they were waiting for the water in the kettle to boil. 

"Same old, same old. Work is busy, but I can't complain."

"Right, you're hosting this huge charity ball in about two months, aren't you?"

"I see you're up to date," San noted as he threw an appropriate amount of leaves into the hot water. While San carried the tea pot towards the living area, Yeosang grabbed two cups with their saucers and followed suit.

"It's almost as if Tiger's corp. is a rather well-known company," Yeosang joked in reply, to which San snorted. He added, "I'm also going, by the way, that's the other reason I know about the ball. You know, I'm one-plussing my way through the coolest events."

Snorting, San retaliated, "I'm sure some of them are boring as fuck." 

"Shh," Yeosang said, sipping his tea and twisting his face because it was still too hot to drink, "Don't kill my positive vibes."

San giggled as he placed a black stone on a point of the grid, starting the game. 

They played in silence for a while, until Yeosang managed to capture a chain of black stones. "Gotcha," He said with a glint in his eyes and San watched in amusement as Yeosang removed San's stones. In the end, it was still San who won the game, his territory slightly bigger than Yeosang's.

After a couple rounds they got bored, though, and San lay down beside the low table, closing his eyes while he enjoyed this simple, peaceful moment. His meditative state of mind was only disturbed when Yeosang shook his shoulder, excitedly pointing to the board on the table, "Look at what I made!"

San grumbled something incomprehensible before he sat up and vacantly looked at the yin and yang symbol laid out on the Go board. He lifted an eyebrow, and then, in the most fake enthusiastic voice ever, exclaimed, "Wow, Yeosangie, you're so talented, this is a masterpiece, I wish I could frame it and hang it up in my bedroom, right next to the new painting, that's where it would really shine—" He was abruptly cut off when Yeosang hit him with the pillow he had been sitting on. 

"Hey! You _wish_ to be this talented! Also, since when do you have a new painting in the bedroom?"

"Couple weeks?" San guessed and snatched the pillow from Yeosang to hit him back. In the process he stumbled against the table and sent the stones on the board sliding around. "Oops, now the yin and yang is all askew," San added just to be dramatic.

"_You're_ askew," Yeosang declared before he tackled San to the ground where they rolled around, wrestling and laughing like little kids. 

When Yeosang rolled on top of San and trapped him under his body, holding San's wrists down beside his head, he smugly declared, "I win!" He was basically brimming with mirth.

In the blink of an eye San pushed his trapped arms up above his head, sending Yeosang off-balance. He rolled over at the same time and grinned victoriously at the pouting man under him. "What about now?"

"You're such a sore loser," Yeosang sighed and rolled his eyes in faux exasperation. He then proceeded to wrap his arms around San's waist and pull him a little bit closer. Only now did San realize that their faces were almost touching.

He could feel the body heat radiating off Yeosang and the odd feeling in his chest returned full force. Why did being close to Yeosang make him feel so jittery? They had barely seen each other in months. Then, San thought of Mingi, the man whose attention he had craved so desperately, the man who meant everything to him. Was he allowed to feel this pull towards the man on his living room floor?

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he realized that like this, he could count every single lash framing Yeosang's eyes if he wanted to. He also had a clear view of the five o'clock shadow above Yeosang's lips. Yeosang's lips—

Yeosang readjusted his position and San could feel their crotches brush for the fraction of a second, which led him to the horrible realization that both of them seemed a little bit too affected by this scenario. "My eyes are up here," Yeosang jested lamely and San quickly averted his eyes, staring at Yeosang's perfectly plucked eyebrow instead. 

When Yeosang tipped his head up San thought he was going to kiss him and felt like passing out, so it came as a real surprise when Yeosang only rubbed the tip of his nose against San's. Despite his shock, San reciprocated the affection. After all, nose kissing was a friendly gesture, so there was nothing wrong with participating. It still felt surrealistically intimate, more so than any other touch they had exchanged in the past. 

And maybe, if San hadn't been that entranced, he would have noticed the front door opening and closing, would have heard the footsteps approaching the living room. But he hadn't, so when Mingi cleared his throat and said, "Don't stop on my account," He sat up at the speed of lightning. His heart was racing and he wanted to jump out of his own skin when he faced Mingi, who was casually standing in the doorway with an unreadable expression. San knew that once Mingi put on his pokerface there was no way he could win. 

Yeosang didn't sit up all the way, he was just leaning on his elbows and didn't seem half as fazed as San, who then realized that it was surely because Yeosang didn't know Mingi like he did. He didn't know the _truth_ about him — about them. A foreign emotion crept into San's chest.

"We weren't doing anything," San explained in a hurry. He was surprised he didn't stumble over any words. 

Mingi looked at the front of San's jeans pointedly. "Right," He elongated the word in a sarcastic manner. San's erection hadn't died down yet. If anything, it had become more prominent, the fear caused by being caught doing something that blurred the lines between the platonic and the romantic acting as a natural aphrodisiac. Getting off on danger certainly wasn't always convenient. "That's too bad. I wouldn't mind," Mingi added as an afterthought. 

"What?" Both San and Yeosang asked at the same time.

"Well," Mingi replied and finally stepped into the room, "The only thing better than finding one hot guy at home is finding two. The only thing I'd ask of you is to let me join, but that's up to you to decide." 

Even though San had no idea why Mingi's mood was like that, he certainly wasn't going to complain or question it. He wondered whether something had happened when he was meeting his mother.

"I can't say that I'm opposed to that," Yeosang said, which pulled San out of his confusion.

San thought about it. He loved Mingi, he was sure of that, but he also felt an undeniable attraction to Yeosang. He took a good look at both men. They appeared so confident, like they knew exactly what they wanted, which in the end also made San's doubts dissipate. He figured if all of them wanted each other there was no harm in acting on those feelings. 

San wet his lips and only wanted to know one last thing. "Bedroom?"

*

They took their time to get reacquainted with each other. When Mingi and Yeosang kissed San suddenly understood Mingi's 'two hot guys are better than one' equation. It was astonishingly exciting to watch someone he loved so dearly and someone he felt such a strong pull towards kiss. Surprisingly enough, San didn't feel any jealousy welling up. 

When they broke apart for air, Yeosang made grabby hands at San, who had to suppress a chuckle. He leaned in with a smile playing on his lips and when his mouth touched Yeosang's a spark exploded in his ribcage. It had been quite a while, but Yeosang still kissed like he remembered — slow, but with an undeniable passion. It was heady and San couldn't help but push his tongue into Yeosang's mouth, an action that was reciprocated enthusiastically. 

San's hand wandered under Yeosang's sweater and caressed his heated skin while Yeosang tangled his fingers in San's hair. San groaned when Mingi started stroking San's hair as well, then his back. He broke his kiss with Yeosang and turned to kiss Mingi instead. 

Suddenly, Mingi's phone started ringing. Mingi's lips left San's and he took one glance at the phone screen. He sounded regretful when he muttered, "I have to take that." The irritating ringing was finally cut off and Mingi left the bed to go sit in one of the two armchairs in the corner of the bedroom. 

Only when Yeosang sat up and pulled at San's shirt did he avert his gaze. He lifted his arms and then took Yeosang's sweater off in return. It didn't take a long time for them to get naked after that and both of them used the opportunity to touch every millimetre of skin they could reach, stroking, squeezing, just feeling each other while their mouths were slotted together. San would have loved to get lost in the feeling of Yeosang's body warm against his, would be happy to just kiss him forever. 

Once he was certain their lips were swollen and more intense in colour, Yeosang asked San to, "Hurry up and get some lube."

"You're so impatient," San grinned, but rolled onto his side to look for a bottle of lube and a handful of condoms in the drawer of his bedside table. He silently thanked his past self for keeping the rubbers despite Mingi and him getting tested and deciding they had no need for them after becoming exclusive. 

Thinking of... San threw a quick glance at Mingi, but he was still sitting there, leaning into the cushions, one hand on the phone, one pressing down on the bulge in his pants, all while he followed Yeosang and San's motions with dark eyes. Honestly, San thought his level of self-restraint was impressive. He didn't think he could sit there and talk to someone about business-related topics in a calm and collected manner while watching two people during foreplay. 

"Can I finger you?" Yeosang asked and reached for the bottle. 

San smirked, "Only if I can finger you, too."

Grinning right back, Yeosang replied, "Deal." He left a light kiss on San's lips before he indicated him to lie on his back with his legs spread apart and positioned himself above San, his knees on either side of San's hips, allowing both of them easy access. Then he squeezed some of the cool liquid out of the bottle, warmed it up using his fingers and San followed his lead.

When Yeosang finally inserted a finger into San and immediately hit right where it felt best, San couldn't stop the little moan escaping him. It took him a couple extra seconds of fumbling before he managed to get a finger inside of Yeosang. He was sure he wasn't quite as nimble-fingered as him, but he succeeded in drawing a shaky exhale from Yeosang either way. 

By the time both of them had two fingers in the other, Yeosang leaned down and mumbled, "This is great." Before San could agree, he was kissed and a third digit joined the other two. San sighed into Yeosang's mouth. Yeah, he definitely wouldn't mind staying like this until both of them were exhausted. Except... One thing was missing. 

San turned his head to look at Mingi, who finally seemed like he was getting affected by the scene unfolding before him. He only heard the end of Mingi's sentence, "—but that will have to wait. Right now I have more important affairs to attend to. I'll speak to you after the meeting tomorrow."

Mingi ended the call, muted his phone and left it on the small table between the armchairs before he went over to the bed. While he pulled his dress shirt off, San cheekily wanted to know, "Did we finally rouse you to passion?"

Yeosang giggled and Mingi smiled. "You two are..." He trailed off as he was looking for the correct word. 

San tried, "Ultra uninhibited?" 

"Licentiously lustful?" Yeosang guessed.

Mingi almost rolled his eyes. In some aspects they were scarily alike. "Both are excellent guesses, but I was going to say _lovely_," He explained while he stepped out of the rest of his clothing and slid onto the bed to watch how they worked each other open. Mingi wet one of his digits and pushed it into Yeosang alongside San's fingers. 

Yeosang's head dropped onto San's chest and he pulled his own fingers free to get into a more comfortable position, spreading his legs wider on each side of San's hips and grabbing onto the man's shoulders. His words came out muffled, "Get inside of me, please, just—"

The two men pulled their fingers free and San began threading his fingers through Yeosang's hair while Mingi grabbed one of the condoms and the lube. When he was all set he pushed himself into Yeosang until he was buried to the hilt, drawing a long sound from Yeosang in the process. 

Every time Mingi moved his hips just right Yeosang groaned lowly directly next to San's ear and it was driving San mad in the sweetest way possible. He loosely hugged Yeosang to his chest and occasionally squeezed his hips. At one point, he turned his head and sucked the heated skin of Yeosang's neck into his mouth, slowly and sensually, just to do _something_ to calm the raw need coming over him. 

After a while, Mingi pulled out of Yeosang, who honest to God _whined_ at the loss of sensation. Yeosang moved off San and dropped down beside him. He looked so gorgeously fucked out already, but when Mingi leaned down to kiss him on his open mouth he still kissed back eagerly. Now that Yeosang wasn't on top of him anymore and distracting him with his little noises San realized just how painfully hard he was, so he wrapped a hand around himself for some relief. 

When Mingi and Yeosang broke apart for air, Mingi rasped, "Why don't you take care of Sannie? I think he needs some attention." 

Yeosang hummed. "San, dear," He said and nosed at his neck, "Do you want to spread your legs for me?"

Even though he hadn't thought it possible it felt as if his erection hardened even more at the mere notion of Yeosang being inside of him. He would be lying if he said he'd never imagined what it would be like. For a second he simply closed his eyes and enjoyed the way Yeosang was leaving light kisses on San's adam's apple, his jaw and the corner of his mouth. San sighed languourously before he turned onto his side. "Take me like this," He requested. 

Yeosang teasingly bit the strong flesh where San's neck met his shoulder, effectively sending a pleasant shiver down San's spine. His voice sounded sultry when he whispered, "Whatever you want."

In the meantime, Mingi kneeled on San's other side, in front of him, where he finally peeled the used condom off and discarded it somewhere before he handed Yeosang a wrapper and the lube. 

"I want to come on your face, San," Mingi told him just as Yeosang slid inside, holding San's top leg up. 

San bit his lip. The pleasure cursing through his body when Yeosang filled him up so nicely was intense. Yeosang immediately began steadily rolling his hips, letting San feel his entire length move inside of him. 

Like this, San was sure he wouldn't be able to form much of a verbal reply, so he grabbed Mingi's thighs to indicate him to come closer and opened his mouth to lick at Mingi's erection once it was right in front of his face. 

Oh, what a beautiful position he was in, he thought. He enjoyed how Yeosang gripped his thigh so hard it would surely bruise, the way his body was pressed against his back and the way he felt inside of him, and he revelled both in the taste Mingi left on his tongue and the tight grip he had on San's hair. 

It came as a surprise to no one that San came first, untouched. He could have cried from the intensity of his orgasm, but he simply closed his eyes and let Mingi slip out of his mouth as he was wrecked by the wave of bliss coming over him. He vaguely registered that Yeosang stopped moving and that something wet hit his cheek, but he felt like he was lying under a thick blanket that muted his senses while he was coming down from his high.

When he finally cracked his eyes open Mingi was leaning over San with a tissue in his hand. He carefully wiped his face with it. Yeosang was stroking San's arm, occasionally drawing invisible patterns on the skin with his fingertips.

Mingi asked, "You okay?"

"More than okay," San smiled honestly. 

With Mingi and Yeosang, he felt as if he was on a ship that created gentle rocking motions as it broke through the waves — he felt safe and sound. The only problem was that he had no idea where this ship would end up taking him.

**Author's Note:**

> it's been quite a while since i enjoyed writing something as much as i enjoyed this, so if you're still here: thank you for reading <3


End file.
